


i wanna waste all my time with you

by avoidingavoidance



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Daddy Kink, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Gratuitous Smut, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Shiro (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, small mention but the symptoms are there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-21 22:07:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14923706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avoidingavoidance/pseuds/avoidingavoidance
Summary: Being a paladin is busy work, but when Hunk brings back an unexpected gift from an allied planet, Shiro and Lance somehow find some time for each other anyway.(they spend it fucking)





	i wanna waste all my time with you

**Author's Note:**

> don't ever look at me i have no excuses
> 
> title from 'fake it' by bastille

Life as a paladin of Voltron is always busy. It’s the nature of the job, after all. One relatively small rebellion against a universal empire? Honestly, they’re lucky they even get time to sleep.

With that in mind, it’s not unusual that today is another busy day. It’s actually less busy than the last few have been, but Shiro is still feeling it keenly, especially every time he barely gets to make eye contact with Lance across the bridge. 

Since they started dating some time ago, Shiro’s been finding himself feeling more centered. He sleeps better, and it’s easier to keep a level head, even on the days he has to call Slav for information. Holding Lance in his arms and burying his face in that soft hair does so much for his mental state. The fact that the contact seems to help Lance too just makes it that much better. He smiles so easily, and some of the tension seems to slip away from his shoulders every time they touch.

The fact that he gets to wake up to that pretty face every day, those soft lips pressed against his stubbly face and whispering sweet affection to him, well. That’s just one of the infinite perks Shiro’s still discovering about being loved by Lance.

They’ve been so busy lately, though, that it’s hard to set aside time for themselves. 

It might be kind of dumb, but Shiro misses Lance.

It’s not like they’re ever very far apart, after all. When they form Voltron, Lance literally lives in Shiro’s head, along with the other paladins. They work together, they live together, and they sleep together, but Shiro still feels himself almost pining for Lance’s proximity like a lost puppy. Hell, right now they’re barely ten feet apart, discussing several distress signals with the team, but it’s so, so far from close enough.

Just as he’s making a promise to himself to show Lance some quality affection, the ship’s alarms blare again, and one of the signals displayed on the star map starts pulsing urgently. 

He sighs, already making a run for his station.

Soon, he thinks. 

\--

The closest thing they’ve had to a day off in what feels like ages is barely even that. Hunk, Allura, and Pidge are acting as Voltron’s representatives on a research expedition, which leaves Shiro at the helm with Coran to field the endless incoming reports and requests from other allied planets. 

Lance is helping where he can, but Shiro can tell how exhausted he is. Hell, even his eyes are just about crossing by the time the expedition team returns. 

As tired as the entire team is, Hunk is still vibrating with excitement when he rushes onto the bridge. “Lance, you’re not gonna _believe_ this!”

Lance bolts upright from where he might have been dozing at Shiro’s station. He whips around to stare wide-eyed at Hunk, but relaxes slightly when he sees his friend’s enormous grin. “Looks like you had fun at the space science fair,” he teases, cracking a grin of his own.

“Oh, it was amazing,” Hunk says, coming to crouch beside Lance. “But don’t distract me, I have a point.” He swings his bag off his shoulder, then reaches into it and pulls out something vaguely spherical, wrapped in strange dark orange leaves. 

Hunk offers it to Lance without explanation, and Lance just stares at it, then up at his friend again. “Uh,” is about all he can come up with as Hunk dumps the thing into Lance’s open hands. “Okay, whatever this is, tell me it’s not alive.”

“No, no,” Hunk replies, but he pauses thoughtfully for a long enough moment that Lance starts looking nervous. “At least, I’m pretty sure it isn’t.” He waves that thought away, then leans in excitedly. “Listen, the Plonkians said it’s _totally_ safe for carbon-based life forms, so I’m pretty sure it won’t eat your flesh or anything—”

Lance looks around nervously, and from where she’d materialized beside Shiro, Allura laughs at them both. “The _Plorians,_ ” she corrects, “Were well known in the quadrant for their complex bathing rituals. It’s been ten thousand years, but it seems the tradition has withstood the test of time.” She reaches up to unleash her hair from the tight bun she’d had it in, still smiling fondly at them. “It’s a bath additive. Hunk was very excited about them.”

Shiro squints at that, but Lance’s mouth falls open, his eyes widening as he turns back to the ball in his hands. He carefully peels up one of the wide leaves, revealing what looks like a dusty purple rock. He sniffs it carefully, then stares up at Hunk.

“You... you brought me bath bombs?” he asks, his tired voice wavering slightly.

Hunk beams at him and nods. “You always used to talk about them at the Garrison. It’s probably not exactly the same, but—”

Lance cuts him off by launching himself at his friend, throwing his arms around his shoulders. Hunk takes it in stride, though, laughing as he gives Lance a firm hug, his broad hands soothing up and down Lance’s back. 

As Lance pulls himself away and tries to be subtle about swiping his knuckles under his eyes, Shiro smiles at them both. Pidge comes onto the bridge next, though, with the kind of sparkle in her eyes that means she has literally endless observations and ideas of her own, and as if on cue, a ping from the Blades pops up from Shiro’s dash, distracting Lance.

Back to work, it seems.

\--

Later that evening, Lance catches up to Shiro in the elevator, a wide, pretty grin on his face and the bath bomb clutched in his hand. Shiro smiles at him and reaches out to run a hand down his arm, already soothed by his boyfriend’s presence. Lance slinks up against his chest and presses a soft kiss to his cheek, then turns and pushes the button for a floor Shiro’s not sure he’s ever been on.

He quirks an eyebrow at Lance, lacing his fingers on the small of his back. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see when we get there,” Lance replies easily, before he turns in Shiro’s arms and leans back comfortably against his chest. He starts playing with one of the leaves covering the bomb as he continues, “I could keep this all to myself, but I figured it’d be more fun with you there.”

Shiro raises his eyebrows. “You found a bathtub somewhere?”

“Nah, Allura told me about the big fancy guest suites they used to stuff diplomats in.” Lance throws a crooked grin at Shiro over his shoulder. “She made sure to mention that the tubs are more than big enough for two people.”

Snorting softly, Shiro leans down and nudges his nose behind Lance’s ear, gathering him closer so he can enjoy his proximity. “Is that so.”

“Yup.” 

Shiro hums, but the elevator doors open before he can reply, and Lance is already grabbing his hand and dragging him down the hall excitedly.

\--

The guest suite is slightly less lavish than Shiro had expected, but he’s not complaining. The bed is enormous, and the tub even more so. When they walk into the bathroom, Lance gives the ceiling an extremely distrusting glare. Having heard plenty from Keith about the frustrating mystery that is Altean pools, Shiro can’t blame Lance for being wary.

When he turns the tap, though, the water pours out perfectly normally, and Lance breathes a sigh of relief. Shiro can’t help but give him a crooked, teasing smile as he gently pinches his side, laughing when his boyfriend swats his hand and sticks his tongue out at him. 

While the tub is filling up, Lance puts the bomb down on a side table and pulls his hoodie off, already looking eager to relax. He pauses midway through pulling his shirt up, though, and turns to Shiro, who is casually enjoying the view, his hands resting in the pockets of his sweats. Rather than rib him for staring like he usually would, Lance tilts his head and asks, “You think your arm is okay to be underwater?”

Shiro hums and blinks down at it. “I think so? It seems fine in the shower.”

Lance cracks a grin at him, pulling his shirt the rest of the way off. “I’ll tell _you_ what’s fine in the shower.”

Snorting a dorky laugh, Shiro shakes his head and moves behind Lance, wrapping his arms lazily around his narrow waist and pressing his lips against the bare curve of his shoulder. Lance sighs happily, leaning into him and tilting his head aside. Shiro nuzzles him contently, pressing a languid kiss against his pulse before he murmurs, “Missed you.”

He hadn’t meant to say it, but Lance tends to have that effect on him. He wishes he could say he’s given up being embarrassed about it, especially since Lance doesn’t mind, but he still flushes somewhat. 

Before he can say anything else, though, Lance reaches up and scratches his hands gently along the shaved hair at the nape of Shiro’s neck, his other hand resting on Shiro’s forearm. He runs his thumb soothingly along the metal and sighs, “I missed you too, big guy.” 

God. Leave it to Lance to not only understand Shiro’s weird feelings, but also empathize with them. 

He rumbles against him and squeezes him gently, then pulls back just enough to turn Lance around so he can catch his lips instead. Lance leans up into him and wraps his arms around Shiro’s neck, melting for him like it’s the easiest thing in the world. 

Shiro could deepen the kiss, could distract Lance entirely, but when Lance hums and turns to check on the bath, he lets him go. Lance had been looking forward to this, after all, and he certainly deserves the pampering. 

Instead, Shiro pulls his glove off, then turns and curiously picks the bath bomb up. Finding the one loose leaf Lance had been playing with, he pulls it up slightly and sniffs. The bomb smells surprisingly pleasant, although Shiro doesn’t think he could name any of the possible ingredients if he tried. It’s just familiar enough that it’s not unnerving, though, and if he’s being honest with himself, it’s a scent Shiro’s rather looking forward to breathing in from Lance’s soft skin.

“Do you put the leaves in too?” he asks, blinking over at Lance.

“Nah, I asked Allura.” Lance grins at Shiro, holding his hand out for the bomb. “She sure knows a lot about these Plorian bathing rituals. I think we figured out where she gets her hair product.”

Shiro laughs at that, but Lance is probably right. Allura’s endless hair is downright magical most of the time, which is pretty impressive for a princess leading a intergalactic rebellion. 

Lance peels the leaves off the bomb and piles them on the side table, then leans over the bath and drops it in. Much like the ones on Earth, it starts going immediately, that pretty purple color clouding the water around it as it drops to the bottom, then bobs right back up to the surface. 

Although Lance seems happy, when he starts to reach down to swirl the water around, something anxious starts creeping around the edges of Shiro’s mind. Even though he trusts both Hunk and Allura when they say it’s safe, the crawling urge to check for himself surges through him. He can’t stop himself from moving forward and gently catching Lance’s wrist before he can touch the water.

Lance blinks up at him, then watches Shiro stick his left hand in the hot bath, poking around the fizzing bath bomb suspiciously. It doesn’t sting or burn, nor really do anything other than being wet, so Shiro pulls his hand back out, idly flicking the water from his fingers.

“Overprotective much?” Lance laughs, turning to give his boyfriend a teasing smile.

Playful as it is, Shiro still finds himself flushing with something between embarrassment and shame. He does this sometimes, succumbs to the paranoia that lurks inside him and screams for him to check the corners, check the closets, check and make sure everything is okay. He rubs the back of his neck and mumbles an apology, but Lance shakes his head and pulls him down into a soft, sweet kiss, his thumb dragging along Shiro’s cheek. 

“Easy, big guy,” he hums, nudging his nose against Shiro’s, and despite himself, Shiro lets himself be soothed. Lance breathes an encouraging sound, brushing their lips together again. “Nothing to apologize for. You know your checking doesn’t bother me, right? I want you to feel safe too.”

Rather than apologize again like he wants to, Shiro nods, then leans back in for more kisses, which Lance happily supplies. 

After a long moment, Shiro steps back and unzips his vest, and Lance gives him a beaming smile, then turns his attention back to his own clothes. Once they’re both naked, Lance gestures to the bathtub and chirps, “After you.” Shiro quirks an eyebrow at him, at which Lance smiles slyly and says, “What? It’s certainly not because I want to ogle your butt.”

Rolling his eyes, Shiro moves past him and steps into the hazy purple water, and if he takes his sweet time leaning over to brace himself and giving Lance a perfectly good look at his ass, it’s purely coincidental. 

As he settles himself in the warm water, Shiro can’t help but sink further into it with a low sigh, his eyes closing. He can’t even remember the last time he had access to a nice, hot bath, let alone the time to really enjoy it. Not that they have the time now, but he can dream. He blinks up at Lance again, finding his boyfriend giving him an absolutely gooey smile, which has him flushing a little. He holds his hand out, though, and Lance slips his fingers between Shiro’s and climbs in.

Shiro spreads his thighs obligingly when Lance steps between them and sits down, leaning his back against Shiro’s chest with a content hum. Breathing a happy sound of his own, Shiro slides his arms around Lance’s waist and holds him close. 

The water settles around them, the air steamy and fragrant and wonderfully relaxing. The bath bomb had finished dissolving a while ago, leaving shimmery swirls drifting lazily through the water, and everything about it feels surprisingly soft. Shiro watches as Lance idly drags the tips of his fingers across the surface, stirring up little sparkles.

“God, I missed this,” Lance sighs after a while, sinking further into the bath so he can rest his head comfortably against Shiro’s shoulder. “We gotta try to relax more.”

Shiro hums his agreement, then says, “This is actually really nice.”

Lance tilts his head and looks up at Shiro. “Have you never tried bath bombs?”

“Nope. They weren’t really popular until after I’d gotten into the Garrison, and the dorms didn’t exactly have bathtubs.”

“That’s awful,” Lance huffs, looking rather affronted on Shiro’s behalf. “We _definitely_ have to do this more, then. It’s good for the soul. Treat yourself, Shiro.”

Snickering quietly, Shiro gathers Lance closer and nuzzles into his hair. “Yes sir.”

Lance smiles widely and wiggles in Shiro’s embrace, sitting up enough that he can catch his boyfriend’s lips again. As they kiss, Shiro runs the palm of his hand idly along Lance’s ribs, marveling at how soft he feels in the water, even more so than usual. He sighs happily, and when Lance hums, then slips his tongue against the part of his lips, he lets him in with a quiet, pleased sound.

Before he can get too into it, Shiro nibbles gently at Lance’s lower lip, then pulls back with a chuckle. “Careful, gonna get yourself into trouble that way,” he warns, his hands settling low on Lance’s hips.

“Oh yeah?” Far from being deterred, Lance grins at him and turns to kneel between Shiro’s thighs, using the rare height advantage to run his wet fingers through Shiro’s hair, pressing his white forelock back against his head before ducking to kiss him again.

Shiro pulls him against his chest again and leans up into his kisses, dragging his thumbs along Lance’s waist with a low hum. “Can you blame me?” he murmurs, nudging his nose against Lance’s. “I finally get some alone time with my cute boyfriend, and he wants to spend it naked and wet.” 

“Ooh, flattery,” Lance laughs. “I would say flattery won’t get you anywhere, but we both know that’s a lie.”

Snorting at that, Shiro wraps his arms around Lance’s waist and smiles up at him. “I’d say it’s gotten me pretty far, actually.” 

Rather than try to deny it, Lance just snickers and combs Shiro’s hair back down over his eyes. “Ooh, pretty boy’s getting saucy.”

Too easy. Shiro’s crooked grin widens, still looking up at Lance through his now-damp bangs. “Oh, are you?”

Used to Shiro turning his compliments around on him, Lance playfully pushes Shiro’s shoulder and huffs, “Cheesy.”

“You love it.”

“I love _you._ ” 

Shiro hums at that, then leans up for more kisses, breathing the words in return between soft brushes of their lips, and then a few times more, just for the way it makes Lance wiggle happily. 

“Hmm, you know,” Lance murmurs, shifting himself smoothly so he can straddle Shiro’s thighs, “I don’t think I’m making much trouble at all.”

“Oh yeah?” Shiro licks his lips and tugs Lance against himself, absolutely relishing how warm Lance feels when they’re this close, even in the still-hot bath water. Lance grins and nods, settling himself more firmly in Shiro’s lap. 

“In fact, I’ve been _very_ good lately,” Lance teases, biting his lip and rolling his hips minutely.

Shiro groans at that, his hands coming to grip Lance’s bony hips. He knows exactly what Lance wants just from the tone of his voice, from how he wields his words, but he also knows he’s gonna have to work for it if he wants more of what Lance is hinting at. 

Luckily, Shiro’s always been pretty good at getting what he wants.

“You’re damn right,” Shiro rumbles in reply. He slides his hands down to Lance’s ass and squeezes firmly, pressing his hips up against Lance’s just for the way his lips part around a pretty sigh. “You wanna keep being a good boy for me, baby?”

Lance shivers at that, but he keeps smiling even as he nods, dark blue eyes never leaving Shiro’s. 

Biting his lip idly, Shiro drags his gaze along Lance’s body, admiring the gorgeous contrast of his boyfriend’s golden skin against his own. He desperately wants to take his time with Lance, to take him apart piece by piece until he’s shaking and gasping and moaning for him, especially this deep in the ship, where there’s no one to overhear the perfect sounds Lance makes. There’s always the risk, though, of being interrupted by the ship’s deafening alarms. 

Maybe it’s the sweet smell of the bathwater relaxing him more than usual, or the promise of the best kind of mischief in Lance’s pretty eyes, but Shiro can’t find it in himself to deny either of them this time.

Zarkon’s just gonna have to go fuck himself.

Shiro hums, then leans in to press hot, open-mouthed kisses along the column of Lance’s long throat. Lance sighs and tilts his head back, all but melting in Shiro’s lap at the attention. The way Lance goes so pliant in Shiro’s hands has him groaning, greedily pulling him closer and sucking a small, dark bruise into Lance’s skin. 

The high collar of their undersuits might hide the hickey, but Lance’s normal shirt definitely won’t, and right now, that thought just spurs Shiro on. He nibbles gently at the mark, worrying soft skin between his teeth before soothing his tongue over it, encouraged by the way Lance’s short nails dig into his shoulders, by the way his breath hitches when he kisses that spot again. He moves on, though, shifting to press his lips against Lance’s cheek with a ragged sound.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he murmurs against his ear, purposely pitching his voice low and rough for the way it makes Lance twitch, his thighs spreading further over Shiro’s lap. 

“Want you,” Lance replies quickly, already flushed and just a little breathless. It really has been too damn long.

Shiro’s in a mood now, though. He smiles crookedly and nuzzles his boyfriend, nipping at his earlobe before he says, “You’ve got me.”

Predictably, Lance grumbles and arches against him, dragging his nails down Shiro’s shoulders. “Want you to touch me,” he huffs, “Want you to make me feel good.”

Shiro could bully Lance more, but he’s too damn weak to that pretty voice asking for more of him. He can always get Lance to beg later, anyway, when he’s shaking and desperate for Shiro’s affection. 

Instead, he hums and kisses the turn of Lance’s jaw, then slides one hand between them, spreading his fingers over Lance’s flat stomach. He drags his palm down Lance’s hip, then along one of his strong thighs, but before Lance can pout at him, he slips his fingers around Lance’s cock, rumbling contently at how easy it is to stroke him gently in the soft, fragrant water.

Lance tilts his head back and shivers at the feeling, eagerly rocking up into Shiro’s grip. The hand still on his ass prevents him from moving too much, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He’s probably distracted, anyway, by the way Shiro’s mouthing up his throat again, or maybe by the way he’s dragging the pad of his thumb in lazy circles over the head of his cock. He’s deliciously hard already, and his eagerness is nothing if not a turn-on for Shiro. 

It occurs to Shiro then that he hadn’t been wearing his usual pants when Lance found him, which means he doesn’t have the bottle of lube he keeps hidden deep in one of his many side pockets. He can drive Lance crazy without it, but he’d be outright lying to himself if he tried to pretend he doesn’t want to spread Lance open on his cock and fuck his brains out.

He groans at the thought, then licks his lips and looks up at his boyfriend, only a little distracted by how beautifully flushed Lance is right now, how dark and pretty his eyes are when he blinks hazily at Shiro.

“Did you bring—”

“Y-yes, yes,” Lance gasps. He goes to lean up onto his knees again, to shuffle out of Shiro’s lap, but Shiro just pulls him right back down and grins crookedly. After all, he’s far from done with him.

“Good.” 

Lance shivers at that, but he settles down again and wraps his arms around Shiro’s shoulders, dragging him into a wet, needy kiss. Shiro obliges him easily, curving his hands back around Lance’s ass and squeezing tightly, letting his fingers wander deeper to tease over his entrance. The smooth water makes his touch slide slightly, and it’s not nearly slick enough for his tastes, but it’s certainly enough to have Lance’s lips parting around a sweet sigh of his name.

Shiro kisses him deeply and drags two of his fingers over Lance just to tease, pressing firmly and humming when Lance shuffles his thighs apart further, then arches his hips back into the touch. He whimpers at the way Shiro fucks his tongue into his mouth, doing his best to drive him just a little crazy.

“Let’s switch,” Shiro mumbles after a moment, too eager himself to get his hands on his boyfriend. Lance blinks dazedly at him, but he lets Shiro guide him around until he’s sitting on the wide edge of the tub, leaning back against the cool marble wall and staring down at Shiro where he’s kneeling between his thighs. Shiro grins up at him, then pulls Lance’s thighs over his shoulders, but before Lance can ask, he leans in and drags his tongue up the underside of his aching arousal, moaning against him when Lance’s hips twitch up for more.

“Sh-Shiro,” Lance gasps, squirming like he wants to spread his thighs wider. Shiro holds him still, though. 

He loves Lance’s flexibility, for sure, but he loves the way Lance’s strong thighs feel tensing and shaking on either side of his head just as much. 

Shiro hums and mouths along his boyfriend’s length again, his hands settling at the tops of Lance’s thighs. He laves his tongue over the head with a low moan, then leans in and wraps his lips around him, breathing another ragged sound at the way Lance tastes, already slick and dripping for him. 

One of Lance’s hands comes down to comb through his short hair then, narrow fingers pushing his bangs back against his head, probably so he can see his face better. Shiro adjusts his angle slightly and sucks him deeper, and as he does, he glances up at Lance, humming at the way Lance looks with those flushed lips parted around soft, humid sighs.

Eager for more, to hear Lance moan for him, Shiro bobs his head slowly, firmly working his tongue against him where he can, until he’s taken Lance to the hilt, his nose buried in soft, dark curls. He swallows eagerly, doing his best not to choke when Lance arches up hard and whimpers.

Those shaky fingers drag through his hair again, Lance’s voice forming a breathless apology, but Shiro groans, then swallows again before he can get the words out. He goes back to bobbing his head, hollowing his cheeks around Lance, unconcerned for the wet sounds his lips make as he moves. Lance likes them, anyway, likes it when Shiro gets sloppy with him, and Shiro couldn’t deny him if he tried.

He feels Lance’s ankles cross over his shoulders, doing his best to be good and keep still, already craving Shiro’s praise, his approval. Shiro’s mouth is otherwise occupied, though, so he does the next best thing and moans for him, his grip on Lance’s thighs tightening encouragingly. 

Lance squeaks out a soft sound at the feeling and squirms, his fingers fisting in Shiro’s hair. Shiro exhales sharply and picks his pace up, closing his eyes so he can focus on making Lance feel good. 

Just as Lance starts gasping for him, both hands resting in his hair, clinging desperately to him, his cock twitching hard on Shiro’s tongue, Shiro hums, then hollows his cheeks again and pulls off. Lance groans and arches his hips after him, his thighs trembling against Shiro’s ears, but he lets him back away with only a little pouting.

He knows Lance bounces back pretty quick, and he could easily bring him off like this, but honestly, Shiro just wants to edge Lance until he cries.

Shiro licks his lips and looks up at his boyfriend, dragging his palms soothingly along his thighs. Lance is already so disheveled, but this is barely a fraction of the mess Shiro wants to make of him. 

Letting Lance’s legs slide back off his shoulders, Shiro kneels up, and Lance ducks to meet him eagerly, humming against him as he deepens the kiss again. He licks between Lance’s lips with a low groan, dragging his palms up Lance’s scarred back and pulling him back down into the tub, if only because he desperately wants to feel that warm skin against his own again.

Lance obliges him for a long moment, his thumbs trailing soothingly over Shiro’s cheeks, before he pulls away again and turns to lean over the edge of the tub, reaching for the pile of their clothes. While he’s digging through his hoodie pockets for lube, Shiro shamelessly enjoys the view, wrapping his hands around Lance’s hips and squeezing firmly, just to tease. He leans over him and mouths along the curve of his shoulder, weak as always to the taste of his skin.

“H-here, here,” Lance gasps when he finally fishes the lube out. He passes it back to Shiro, then throws a flushed, crooked grin over his shoulder as he rocks his hips back into Shiro’s lap.

God, that grin always gets to Shiro. Lance is such a vibrant person, and he has a million different smiles for every one of his moods. Shiro can’t help but have his favorites, especially when those smiles are aimed at him. 

If Lance still gives him butterflies even after this long together, that’s no one’s business but his own. 

Hopelessly charmed, Shiro puts the lube on the edge of the tub and leans over Lance again, guiding him into another messy, languid kiss. Lance purrs happily, all too aware of what he does to Shiro, and more than a little proud of himself for it. He reaches up and rests his hand against the back of Shiro’s head, lovingly scratching his nails through his undercut, and Shiro can’t help but let himself linger for just a moment longer.

He pulls away just far enough to whisper, “I love you,” his breath warm against Lance’s flushed lips. Lance hums in response, closing his eyes and leaning up into him again, nuzzling him affectionately. Shiro slides his arms around Lance’s waist and ducks his head to press a warm kiss to Lance’s pulse, murmuring the words a few more times, just because the way they taste on his lips mingles so damn perfectly with the bare taste of Lance’s sweat.

Before he loses himself entirely to getting mushy, Shiro nibbles gently at Lance’s shoulder, then sits back up and grabs the lube, determined to hear Lance gasping for him again.

While Shiro’s slicking his fingers, Lance folds his arms on the edge of the tub and arches his back, offering himself up so perfectly. The way he’s still grinning over his shoulder, though, and the playful look in his eye stand as a challenge, one that Shiro can never bring himself to pass up. 

Lance may have Shiro wrapped tight around his little finger, but it’s not like Shiro doesn’t have plenty of tricks of his own.

He returns the teasing grin as he sets the lube down again, resting one hand on Lance’s hip before dragging the slick pads of his fingers over his entrance. Lance hums at the feeling and rests his cheek on his crossed arms, relaxing for Shiro so perfectly it nearly makes him dizzy. He strokes his palm up Lance’s ribs appreciatively, wishing not for the first time that he had better feeling in his prosthetic. 

Rather than teasing him more the way he had earlier, Shiro licks his lips and focuses. He eases a finger into Lance, watching him for any signs of discomfort, but all he sees is the way Lance’s lips part around a shaky sigh. 

Duly encouraged, Shiro thrusts his finger gently, then curls it down into Lance’s prostate, and just that feeling alone has Lance’s hips arching back, a shiver running through him.

Shiro can already feel his mean streak bubbling up inside him again.

He hums raggedly and works Lance open for another finger, and this time when he has them buried deep inside him, he curls them again and rubs pointedly. He knows just how to move, just how much pressure to use to have Lance’s thighs twitching, his hands fisting, his breath hitching, and he makes good use of that knowledge. 

Lance is so sensitive, so responsive right now that Shiro can’t help but groan, his own aching arousal twitching. He’s starting to get a little desperate for friction, but even the idea of taking one of his hands off of Lance just to touch himself is out of the question.

Instead, he adjusts their position, then nudges Lance until he presses his thighs tight together. Those dark blue eyes watch him curiously, but rather than explain himself, Shiro moves closer behind him, and with a little guidance and the help of the lingering softness from the bathwater, slips his cock between those perfect thighs with a low groan.

Cocky as he’d been, Lance curses breathlessly and buries his face in the bend of his elbow, rocking his hips back eagerly. Shiro hums for him and soothes his hand down the curve of his spine again, and when he starts thrusting his fingers again, he moves his hips in time, fucking Lance’s thighs slowly just to tease them both. It helps him keep his head, though, no longer so badly distracted by the ache, and he uses that focus to keep working Lance open on his fingers.

As good as it is for Shiro, Lance is already starting to lose his cool. He keeps his head down, his thighs tensing so nicely, and it’s only when he reaches down and curves his hand under the slippery head of Shiro’s cock that he realizes Lance is watching. 

He can only imagine how it must look for him, having Shiro sliding lewdly between his thighs, moving in tandem with the fingers crooking into his sweet spot on every pass. Shiro moans for him and rubs just a little harder, just to feel Lance jump and hear his breathy gasp, and when Lance uses his hand to angle Shiro up harder against the apex of his thighs, holding him there and panting humidly, all Shiro can do is rumble sweet, brainless praise to him.

Lance’s sounds become muffled quickly. He must be biting his arm to keep it together, between the fingers inside him, the lazy drag of Shiro’s cock, the way his hand is getting slicker and slicker with every thrust, belying just how much Shiro likes this. Unable to resist, Shiro hums raggedly, then works another finger into him, spreading them and curving them almost meanly.

By now, Lance has to have caught onto Shiro’s game. He’s already shaking all over, squirming under Shiro’s attention, and the sight of him falling apart like this just makes Shiro dizzier.

He knows Lance is close, though. He knows damn well what the jerky motions of Lance’s hips mean, and how tightly wound he is already. Again, he could easily spoil his boy this way, bring him off just to hear those hitching cries of his name, just to see how pretty he melts for him.

When Shiro leans back far enough to pull his cock out from between his thighs, Lance arches hard onto his fingers and lets out a protesting moan. “ _Shiro,_ ” he manages, throwing a flustered frown over his shoulder. Shiro licks his lips and grinds the tips of his fingers into Lance’s sweet spot again to distract him, earning himself a squeaky, adorable whine. 

Shiro just chuckles at him, then eases his fingers out, and the disapproving sound Lance lets out at that makes his grin widen. 

“Don’t bully me,” Lance grouses, his eyes rolling closed. 

When Shiro soothes his hands up his sides, though, all Lance can do is relax for him. Shiro hums at the sight and leans over him, pressing a sweet kiss to the nape of his neck before whispering, “You’re being so good for me, baby.” Lance shivers hard at that, tilting his head aside easily, offering himself up to Shiro again. Shiro groans approvingly, nibbles gently at the mark he’d made earlier.

Once Lance’s breathing has steadied out somewhat, once he’s not strung so tightly, Shiro grabs the lube again and makes quick work of slicking his own cock. It’s so tempting to stroke himself harder, to touch himself to the way Lance looks bent over, wet and open for him, but he takes a deep breath and resists the urge.

“You ready for me?” he asks, his voice rough with arousal. Lance shivers again, but he turns to look at Shiro and nods, his face flushed so pretty. Shiro bites his lip, then moves closer again, reaching down to steady his cock.

He pushes into Lance slowly, carefully, both to tease and because if he doesn’t take this patiently, he’s gonna lose it. Lance is so perfect around him, tight and hot and wet, and the way his back arches, his head falling back with a sweet moan of Shiro’s name, has his own breath catching in his chest. He leans over Lance and braces one hand on the edge of the tub, the other wrapped around Lance’s bony hip, and once he’s buried inside him, he pauses just to grind his cock deeper, his eyes fluttering closed when Lance tightens around him.

“Feels good, baby,” Shiro manages, ducking to kiss along Lance’s neck again, desperate to have his mouth on him. “You feel so good, Lance, fuck...”

Lance whimpers for him, reaching up to grip the nape of Shiro’s neck, holding him close as he wiggles his ass back into Shiro’s lap. Shiro groans at the feeling, bucking his hips forward just to hear Lance’s voice crack. 

He starts moving his hips in long, slow thrusts, because he loves feeling Lance squeeze around every inch of him, but also because he can already feel his boyfriend getting impatient. There’s just something about the way Lance squirms for him when he wants more, making all these soft, sweet noises and trying to work for more of him that leaves Shiro breathless. 

Moaning roughly against Lance’s pulse, Shiro wraps his arm around his waist and gathers him closer, grinding his cock deeper and thrusting just a little harder, using his grip to pull Lance back into him. Lance buries his face in his elbow again and lets out this shaky, downright lewd whimper, tensing around him, so Shiro spreads his knees slightly and keeps thrusting at that angle. He knows he’s still teasing, but Lance is making such adorable sounds Shiro can’t bring himself to stop.

His own patience does have its limits, though. It’s been so long since he got to have Lance like this, since he got to take his time with him, that hearing the way he’s getting to Lance just makes him want more.

He wants Lance brainless and crying out for him, making a sweet mess of himself and begging for more, and he wants to take care of him until he can’t see straight. 

Shiro groans and nips sharply at Lance’s shoulder, then straightens up again and moves his hands back to Lance’s hips. He starts thrusting harder, still slow and deep but rough enough that Lance rocks forward with every thrust, that he starts melting under Shiro’s attention, relying more and more on the edge of the tub and Shiro’s grip to keep him up.

“Sh-Shiro, _fuck,_ ” Lance whimpers, glancing back over his shoulder again. He’s got such a pretty, hazy look on his face, Shiro’s can’t help but lick his lips and buck his hips into him just for the way it makes Lance’s eyes roll back. 

“God, you’re beautiful,” he breathes, soothing one hand up Lance’s spine, petting him lovingly. “Love the way you say my name, baby, wanna be so good to you.” 

Lance whines again and rests his cheek against his forearm, but he slips one hand down under himself. Before he can wrap his fingers around his arousal, though, Shiro catches his wrist and rumbles darkly. 

He leans down and gently bites Lance’s ear, pulling his hand back up to the edge of the tub and pinning it there. “What, don’t want me to take my time with you? Don’t want me to make you come from just my cock?”

Shuddering weakly, Lance bites his lip and grips the edge of the tub again. Never one to be struck speechless, he tilts his head and grins crookedly, then replies, “Think you can?”

Shiro huffs at that, but he’s always been competitive, and Lance knows that well enough to use it to his advantage, patience be damned.

He sits upright and grips Lance’s hips again, and this time he uses his strength to his advantage when he starts moving again. He thrusts faster, though, fucking into Lance and pulling him back onto his cock every time. The sound of their skin slapping is loud against the marble walls, but Lance is louder, especially once he spreads his knees and arches his back enough that Shiro hits him right where he needs it.

“Right there, god, _Shiro_ —” he gasps, his breath coming faster, harsher as Shiro keeps that pace.

The water sloshes around them, lapping up the sides of the tub, and Shiro tries not to be distracted by it. It’s gonna make a mess, but Shiro doesn’t care as much about that as he does the fact that he could still be fucking Lance better.

He remembers then that there’s a perfectly big bed just in the other room, and once he’s starting thinking about it, he can’t stop.

Burying himself deep with a groan, Shiro presses his chest against Lance’s back and nudges his jaw until he leans up enough for them to kiss again. Lance moans against him, nipping at his lips and curling his tongue with Shiro’s, his hips swaying idly into his boyfriend’s lap just to make up for the lack of movement. The way his breath hitches, the thick curve of Shiro’s cock must be grinding all along his prostate, and the thought has Shiro huffing and bucking into him.

“I’m gonna let the water out,” he manages, resting his forehead against Lance’s temple. “And I’m gonna take you in the other room and fuck you through that bed.”

Lance all but wilts under him, his lips parted around a needy whine, but he nods eagerly all the same. He pouts a little when Shiro pulls out, which is almost adorable enough to distract him again. Almost.

He turns and fumbles around the floor of the tub until he finds the release, and once he has, he braces his weight and stands up, fragrant purple water dripping freely from his skin. Even his legs are a little shaky, but that’s just one of the many effects Lance has on him. He pushes through it and reaches down to help Lance up and out of the tub. 

Not even bothering with towels, Shiro ducks down and catches Lance around his wobbly knees, then stands up again, smoothly hoisting his lanky boyfriend over his shoulder. The easy display of his strength earns him a deeply appreciative moan. As he carries him out into the other room, Lance gives him this giddy little laugh and slaps his ass, and when Shiro returns the favor, Lance just wiggles happily. Too damn cute for his own good.

Shiro does his best to be gentle when he tosses Lance down onto the bed, and thankfully, the mattress seems forgiving. Lance leans up on his elbows, licking his lips at the way Shiro starts slowly crawling toward him. 

He scoots back up the bed too, though, drawing out their little game of cat and mouse with a sly, crooked grin. Shiro hums roughly, but he plays along, moving after him until Lance reaches the pillows. Rather than put his head on them, Lance grabs one of them and lifts his hips to stuff it under himself, pulling his knees back to give Shiro an incredibly enticing view.

As much as Shiro would like to bury his head between Lance’s thighs again, to hear his pulse pounding against his ears while he fucks him open on his tongue, the ache in his cock tells him to save it. 

He keeps crawling up the bed, his eyes never leaving Lance’s even as he ducks his head to kiss sloppily along his sharp hip bone, his stubbly cheek just brushing Lance’s dripping cock. He groans against his skin, barely catching the earthy taste of the bath bomb on his tongue. He smells so good, even disheveled and aroused as he is, and Shiro desperately wants more of him. 

He takes his sweet time as he mouths hot and wet up Lance’s stomach, spurred on by the way his boyfriend gasps. As he makes his way up, Lance arches into his attention, his shaky hand coming to rest encouragingly on the nape of Shiro’s neck. Shiro huffs against his flushed skin and slips one of his arms under him, under the sharp curve of his lower back as he shivers and wraps his strong legs around Shiro’s hips.

As Shiro kisses up the center of his chest, Lance tilts his head back and moans. He deserves a reward for how good he’s being, how pliant he is for his boyfriend, so Shiro nuzzles into his throat and bites another little mark onto sensitive skin, this one high enough that even their suits won’t cover it.

Lance had grabbed the lube before they left, keeping it clutched in his other hand. Even as he’s rocking up against Shiro, he reaches down and pushes it into one of Shiro’s hands, asking for more without words.

Rather than pull his attention away from what he’s doing, Shiro hums against his skin and takes the lube. He slicks himself again quickly, too needy to even be tempted by the press of his own hand this time. Instead, he spreads his knees across the sheets and moves closer, and when he pushes back into Lance, both of them breathe wavering moans at how _good_ the slide feels.

Shiro starts moving right away this time, rumbling against Lance’s pulse as his boyfriend squeezes around him and whines. He thrusts slow and hard again, but only because he knows the angle the pillow under Lance provides is _perfect_ for him to tease his brains out.

The way Lance squirms and arches proves that much; the hard curve of Shiro’s cock must feel so good for him, because his thighs are already shaking hard, tightening around Shiro’s hips and dragging him in so perfectly. Shiro groans, then languidly drags his tongue over the fresh mark on Lance’s neck, pausing to admire his work just for a moment before he leans up on his elbows so he can watch Lance’s pretty face. 

“Feel good, baby boy?” he asks, unable to help himself. He’s so weak to the way Lance pants for him, short nails dragging pink lines down his shoulders as he rocks into Shiro’s steady rhythm. Lance nods, then blinks up at him, moving one hand to Shiro’s cheek, a silent plea for more of his affection.

Shiro gives in easily, ducking to kiss Lance hard, eagerly swallowing down the soft sounds his boyfriend makes with every deep thrust. 

Even when Lance is near brainless, though, stuffed full of Shiro’s cock and shaking for it, he has a mouth on him. He drops his head to the sheets again and gives Shiro a lazy smile, combing his fingers up through Shiro’s hair and pulling on it gently, all things he does when he’s about to make trouble. He’s been playing Shiro’s game for this long, letting himself be dragged to the edge and teased back down, but Shiro knows it was only a matter of time before Lance would take the upper hand back.

“If you want me to come just from _this_ —” he interrupts himself to arch hard into Shiro’s next thrust, squeezing so tight around him it has Shiro’s vision fuzzing over for a moment, “Gonna need a little more, big guy.”

Groaning raggedly, Shiro ducks down to nip at Lance’s lower lip, bucking his hips hard in retaliation and breathing in the choked sound he makes. “Mm, what happened to being good for me, huh?”

The sharp grin Lance gives him should be warning enough, but he still catches Shiro completely off guard. 

“Am I not being good, daddy?”

And there it is. The thing that gives him the most power over Shiro, that he’s never above using to get his way, the thing he’d barely hinted at in the bath earlier. The thing that makes Shiro’s whole brain crash every single time. 

He gasps Lance’s name and squeezes his eyes shut, giving himself a moment to recover so he doesn’t just lose it. 

He bounces back fairly quickly, though, and dives down for another kiss, this one harder, sloppier, more of a desperate plea for contact than an attempt to control Lance’s behavior. 

“No,” he finally manages, his voice a rough, aroused growl, the kind that always makes Lance arch for him. “You’re not.” He leans in further and drags his teeth along Lance’s jaw, eating up the way his boyfriend shakes for more before he nuzzles into his ear and whispers, “We can fix that, though.”

Lance breathes a shaky, encouraging moan, so Shiro gives him another teasing bite, then leans upright and spreads his knees wide on the sheets, sitting on his heels. He isn’t close enough to kiss him this way, but he knows well enough how good this angle is for Lance, and how gorgeous he’ll look under him. He wraps his hands around Lance’s hips again, his grip stern this time, earning himself an eager whine. 

Shiro pulls his hips back slowly, greedily taking in the way Lance looks stretched around him, how well he takes all of him, but when he thrusts back in, he snaps his hips hard and uses his grip to pull Lance onto him, and this time he doesn’t bother teasing.

As he fucks into Lance’s tight, wet heat, he can’t help but groan at the feeling, at how easy the slide is, but the sound Lance makes washes out everything else. 

He pounds his cock into him and licks his lips, helplessly watching his boyfriend writhe in pleasure. Lance is arching again, reaching up and tangling his fingers in the sheets to brace himself, his eyes rolling closed at how easily Shiro stuffs him full, holding him still so he doesn’t slide up the bed with the force of his thrusts.

Lance may have been quiet until now, but the angle and the force behind Shiro’s thrusts has him moaning, his flushed lips parted around gorgeous, needy sounds with every ragged breath. He’s still got Shiro wrapped around his finger, though, because every time Shiro hits him _just_ right, grinds deep into him just the way he likes, Lance whines that _word_ again, and it’s all Shiro can do to keep his head on straight.

When Lance sounds like that, Shiro will do absolutely anything to please him, and they both know it.

Desperate for more of him, to take him higher, Shiro groans, then slides one hand up to toy with one of Lance’s nipples, tweaking and squeezing almost meanly just for the way Lance arches tight off the sheets and keens. Lance’s stomach is a mess of precome already, his cock absolutely dripping, but the fact that he isn’t trying to touch himself anymore just goes to show how easy it is for him to get his way with Shiro, to get him into the sort of mood to fuck him just how he wants. 

Fortunately, their moods tend to align more often than not.

Shiro shifts his weight and leans over Lance more, slamming his cock down into him and grinding harder, a rush of satisfaction running through him at the way Lance’s eyes just about cross. “Does that f-feel good, baby boy?” he asks breathlessly. “’S it good right there?”

Lance’s breath hitches at that, his dark eyes fluttering open so he can stare up at Shiro, barely focusing on him through the pleasure. “ _Yes,_ daddy,” he manages, his voice shaking almost as much as his thighs. He whimpers and tightens around Shiro, his head falling back again as he gasps, “F-fuck, I’m so close—”

“You gonna come for me?” Shiro holds him tighter, throws more of his weight into his rough thrusts. Lance is gonna be walking funny later, but Shiro can’t think about that right now, not when he can _feel_ Lance’s orgasm building around his cock, his hips twitching up against Shiro’s as his dripping precome makes an even bigger mess of his soft skin. “You’re so tight,” he gasps, his hand fisting hard in the sheets, the other still gripping Lance’s hip tight. “You feel so good around me, Lance, wanna feel you come on my cock, p-please?”

The way Lance cries out for him has Shiro’s brain melting down again, but he can’t come yet, not when Lance is still desperate, still needy. He grits his teeth and quickly loops his arm under one of Lance’s knees, pulling it off his hip so he can bend him back and fuck him better. 

Lance arches clear off the bed with this new angle, with how hard Shiro’s ramming his cock into him, clearly hitting him just right. “ _Right there daddy fuck me,_ ” he whines, his hands flailing until he finds Shiro’s forearms, clinging to him for support as he throws his head back and outright wails for him. “Daddy I’m gonna come _please_ let me come, I-I—I need—”

“C’mon, baby,” Shiro begs, but Lance is already letting go for him. He quakes under him, every muscle in his body tensing as his come slicks up his arched chest, splattering wet on his skin and on the sheets. He’s still crying out for him, brainless, half-formed praises and desperate sobs of his name, of that dirty pet name, his nails digging into Shiro’s skin and dragging along warm metal. 

The way he tightens around Shiro’s cock would be enough for him, but it’s the way Lance trembles for him, the way he clings and whines pleadingly as Shiro fucks him through his orgasm that sets Shiro off. 

He whimpers for him and collapses onto his elbow again, losing his rhythm as he comes deep inside him, only spurred on by the way Lance wraps his shaky arms around his neck and holds him. He thrusts until neither of them can stand it anymore, until both of them are twitching and gasping, his breath panting out humid against Lance’s lips, colored with helpless little moans of his sweet boyfriend’s name. 

Once he’s managed to stop moving, he buries himself deep and whines, leaning his forehead against Lance’s temple and doing his best not to just collapse on him. Even then, it takes them both a while to come back down, but they just cling to each other until they catch their breath.

Swallowing heavily, Shiro nudges his nose against Lance’s flushed cheek and mumbles, “Should’ve—should’ve known you were up to no good.”

Lance laughs breathlessly at that, one hand clumsily petting the back of Shiro’s head. “When am I not.”

“You’re a cheater,” Shiro sighs, nipping playfully at the turn of Lance’s jaw, before he slides his arm out from under his knee so he can hold his own weight more easily. 

“I wouldn’t say that.” Lance drags both of his hands through Shiro’s hair, then pulls him up and gives him a lazy kiss. “I just knew what you were in the mood for.”

Shiro grumbles, especially when Lance snickers at him, but he can’t exactly refute it. Lance knows him too damn well, anyway. Instead, he leans in for another languid kiss, humming against his lips at the way Lance’s hands feel petting him so gently. Between kisses, Lance nuzzles him lovingly and murmurs, “I love you, big guy,” and if Shiro could melt for him any more, he would. 

Instead, he gathers Lance close and whispers the words back to him, then a few more times, because just saying it once never really covers just how bad Shiro has it for him.

**Author's Note:**

> i have a [tumblr](http://avoidingavoidance.tumblr.com) and a [twittr](http://twitter.com/gaarbage)
> 
> use condoms


End file.
